A Mother's Love
by Zixyms
Summary: It unnerved her slightly, and was surprising. His eyes settled on the numerous rings on her finger with obvious greed flashing in his brown eyes. A life of poverty and having to share with the other orphans was distasteful and pathetic to him. "I'm Tom. Tom Riddle." CURRENTLY ON HIATUS TO BE REWRITTEN AND DRAFTED.
1. Prologue: Eleanor Nostradamus

The woman felt as if she was a beacon in the graying orphanage. Her neat dark blue cloak and wide-brimmed hat seemed out of place, even if they did seem a bit tattered due to the storming weather.

Many glittering rings sat themselves on her long, spindly, spider-like fingers. It was noticeable by how it caught onto the dim lighting, and the matrons eyes would try to stare at the rings as if to determine if they were real or not.

"Welcome to Wool's Orphanage. I am Margaret Cole, the matron." Margaret Cole introduced herself, inclining her head in a business-like greeting.

"Eleanor Nostradamus, but please, call me Nora."

She nodded, and sent her a faux smile. She seemed to be in her mid-thirties, but yet lines of age had already participated to make her look older.

The woman, smiled back. "I have been yearning for the company of another recently." Eleanor sighed wistfully, a foreign accent catching onto the English; "It seems that with this war, I have become desperate for someone else in my home. Of course, no man would take up with me."

The matron hid a envious snort. Miss Nostradamus was a bright beauty with her blonde hair that the matron suspected the soft curls weren't artificial, as they matched with blue eyes, and sharp aristocratic nose and high cheekbones that led down to a soft yet prominent jawline.

"I wish I could understand. My husband is quite noisy around our home." Eleanor rose a brow, and gave her yet another sickening sweet smile. "I may guess that you have no children then." The blonde woman chuckled, and Mrs. Cole had the inkling that a backhanded compliment was just thrown her way. Margaret Cole smiled tightly.

"Well then, may I now see the children? Standing in the entry hall won't show me anything but dust." Mrs. Cole pursed her lips. Quickly leading Eleanor to the parlor before quickly leaving to gather the children. A look of dislike to the pretty blonde was already showing on the matron's face. Money and beauty always made a terrible two in Margaret's head, but she had neither as she worked with children. _She didn't even like children._

Eleanor, left alone in the parlor didn't seat herself. While the furniture seemed better taken care of in the parlor, she didn't trust these people to clean them properly with how the building itself seemed to be falling apart. The blonde pursed her lips and let out a huff. Muggles were such disgusting people.

* * *

A little blonde girl with ringlets looked up at her hopefully. She held a resemblance to Eleanor that she could not place, and when she murmured something in German the small girl smiled brightly as if it was Christmas day, and spoke shyly in Eleanor's native tongue.

Anselma, the small blonde girl, was cute but Eleanor knew that she would easily leave with no trouble. Unfortunately, as beautiful and innocent as Anselma seemed, she was not _magical_ to Eleanor and was a plain, disgusting Muggle with good looks. Heavens forbid if that she would ever willingly touch someone without magic running through their veins with positive actions.

As Eleanor eyed through the children, she noticed a magical signature that her own had been subconsciously brushing against in approval of the _power._ Merlin, she thought, blue meeting brown as a look of excitement passed through Eleanor.

She moved in front of the boy. He seemed no older than seven years, and his face that was rounded with baby-fat was already showing the signs of him becoming a handsome man when he would grow. Her face showed no signs of approval as she took in his features, inwardly though, she was smiling widely.

Cloak rustling as she knelt down, she gave an amiable smile.

"Hello, my name is Eleanor."

The blonde felt like a young child who was introducing themselves to another child before either becoming best mates with them or either swearing them to be their rival.

The boy with dark eyes stared at her.

Judging.

Appraising.

Seeing as if she could help him reach his ambitions, or how she would be useful to him in the long-run.

It unnerved her slightly, and was surprising. His eyes settled on the numerous rings on her finger with obvious greed flashing in his brown eyes. A life of poverty and having to share with the other orphans was distasteful and pathetic to him.

"I'm Tom. Tom Riddle."

* * *

 **Ello!**

This is my first fic on this site, and yes updates will be slow as I'm a busy person but I _at least_ hope you enjoyed the Prologue for A Mothers Love. This idea had been bouncing around in my head and I'm only like a paragraph into the first chapter that will hopefully be published by next Wednesday if I'm not being a lazy-bum.

 **zyxms**


	2. Chapter 1: Rohstein Manor

**A Mother's Love**

 **Chapter 1**

 **Rohstein Manor**

* * *

"Would you like to take up Miss Nostradamus's last name, Tom?"

Margaret Cole didn't pass a glance at Tom Riddle or Eleanor Nostradamus as she asked the question, staring down at the adoption papers as she filled out paperwork that yes, indeed this beautiful most likely noble woman wanted the troubled child.

Usually she would ward away people from young Tom. It was the good Christian thing to do, and thought of herself as a good Christian keeping away Tom from most couples who managed to save enough money for another mouth to feed in the damaged economy.

Tom took a glance towards the woman who planned to adopt him like many other before her.

He shook his head, a confirmation of 'No, I do not want her last name.'

Eleanor's lips thinned into a small frown before she leaned forward to sign on all the blank spaces requiring her to. Tom would take time to make her presence used to him. Good thing she was a patient woman, and always got what she wanted in the end, no matter how much work she would put into getting to her goal.

"Go get your belongings Tom, we will be leaving immediately." Eleanor instructed as she signed the last dotted line with a flourish of her hand.

Tom left the room without a word, leaving the two women behind.

"Would you like a drink?" Margaret pulled out a bottle of cheap whiskey from the largest drawer of her desk.

"No, I've heard that the effects of alcohol age a woman." She smiled politely, folding her hands in her lap as she subtly eyed the Muggle woman's wrinkles around her eyes and the ones on her forehead that was accompanied by graying hair on the roots of dark blonde.

put back the drink in her drawer, hand smoothing over her face self-consciously as she bent down to close her desk drawer.

A knock on the matron's office door signaled both that Tom was back, and ready to leave.

Relieved to finally leave the building, Eleanor quickly met her new son on the other side of the door.

Without a word except for the low thump of their footsteps on the aged wood floor Margaret followed the rich woman and her previous ward out of the grounds of Wool's Orphanage.

"Thank you for giving Tom here a home" the Muggle woman said as if talking about a litter of pups that was simply too much to pay for in a time of little money. Tom sneered at his former matron and Eleanor simply rose a shapely brow.

Awkwardly the matron of the orphanage smiled at them and scurried back to the bleak building with children peering out to of the windows to watch the resident freak leave.

"Come now Tom, we will not be returning here."

* * *

Eleanor had seen the faces of people who entered Rohstein Manor, awe being the primary look that was seated on people's faces.

Tom's face was impassive.

A new reaction, given the iron gates surrounding the large estate that was simply thriving with its shining grass and numerous wild herbs in its own patches rather than the greenhouses that were being overgrown with clusters of ivy.

The house itself was a large gray building stretching horizontally with a large circular fountain that served as a roundabout of the cobblestone pathway that led from the gates to the doors of the manor itself.

"This is Rohstein Manor, I've inherited it from my mother's side of the family and then when I pass it will go to you." She shot a look at the young boy next to her as they walked along the path. There was a thoughtful look on his face as she began to explain the grounds.

"The greenhouses are behind the manor and I believe we have stables a somewhere if you are interested in learning equestrianism, though it has never really agreed with me personally, staying on my own two feet is always preferred."

As they reached the large and imposing front doors with two low brass knockers that were welded into the shape snarling dogs, Eleanor smiled at Tom as he watched her press open the doors that showed him the first steps into his new life.

Polished black marble reflected the light of the smaller chandeliers that hung near the sides of the high ceiling that led to a larger, and elegant crystal chandelier hung above the midway spot of the staircase that split into two. A long, finely detailed rug covered the middle of the stairs and also split, before going their own ways.

A handful of curious portraits hung on the dark wooden walls, eyeing the young boy she had brought home. They murmured to one another behind their painted hands and pointed every so often towards him.

"The paintings are moving." Tom said, adjusting his grip on his small battered suitcase. "Well of course they are, all paintings move." The blonde woman snorted as if it was common knowledges among Muggles that paintings move. Heading across the hall, and up the grand staircase and motioning for Tom to follow.

Hall after hall, she opened one of many carved wooden doors and led him in.

"This room is yours, the restroom is off to that door and connects to your own closet. We will go shop for new outfits this weekend after you've finally settled in." Eleanor watched Tom as he took in the rich forest green coloring of the room, accents of a dark gold complementing the green.

A four-poster bed was against the far corner of the wall, one side pressing against the dark green wall, while the other was over the dark gray rug covering the Bois de Rose wood floor. A small nightstand was next to the bed, a gas lamp and a bright red book both on top of it. There was a large window on the south side of the room, a large garden with high hedges and neat rows of flowers captured behind the glass.

"Dinner will take place at half past four. I will be in my own rooms that is just down the hall if you need me" she informed. With a swish of her skirts Eleanor left the room, a click-clack of her heels becoming fainter as made way for her own rooms.

* * *

Dinner the previous day was quiet and boring. Tom was not a lively child yet demanded her to take him on a tour of the grounds, as the night before he became lost after the wrong turn of a corner.

He enjoyed the solitude of the library and his own room and seemed to sneak off to the kitchens for a quick snack when he thought his adoptive mother was taking tea in the Licht parlor by herself.

It was confusing for young Tom as he never saw any servants around the house, yet everything seemed to correct itself in the large manor that surely, needed up keeping.

Eleanor gave him his space as he tried to piece things together, such as why the portraits in the gallery hall and entry hall would move and seems to speak to one another. Or how his uniqueness of power would flare up more than usual in unrestrained bouts that would make a priceless vase fling itself across the room and smash into a dozen little pieces but find itself fixed and looking newer than ever a few hours later.

Very peculiar, but not as peculiar as his adoptive mother.

She didn't show any maternal love towards Tom to his relief, unlike the few couples who would adopt him and then dump him back at Wool's Orphanage a week later because their 'poor Christian souls' couldn't 'purify the tainted devil-work' in young Tom Riddle.

Yet a week later when Eleanor suddenly decided that she would lay down a few rules and finally get into contact with him, a fork flew across the table from where Tom sat and impaled her in her right hand. It was just a small burst of annoyance on Tom's part. Her sudden interference in the comfort of books and being Eleanor-free between meal times was irritating.

She screamed of course, as expected but what wasn't expected was the nasty glare she shot Tom before she pulled out the bloody fork and hissed at him menacingly that if he didn't listen he would find himself penniless and once again back in the dirty orphanage.

It was a weird response, but normal for her to blame him as it was his fork, even if he didn't touch the damn thing. Her threat certainly was unwelcome to him after a week of living in the luxury of Eleanor's money and the countless books she left out for him in the library that weren't behind the locked glass casing of the shelves.

Falling into the plush mattress later that night, without the scratchy radio with conspiracies of the German Chancellor Hitler that Eliza Baxter, one of the caretakers in Wool's Orphanage owned, he relaxed in the quiet.

Life was certainly much better in Rohstein Manor, without the constant noise and nosiness of the other orphans and Tom Marvolo Riddle intended to keep it that way.

* * *

/doesn't update for a whole month

w0w look how early I updated!

haha ok, I busted my lazy ass to finish writing this and while I'm not happy with it, I'll probably go back and fix it sooner or later.

Yes, my perception with POV is gunked up but I like it as it focuses on the main two of my story while showing the thoughts and actions of outsiders and giving character to how other react to their words and actions.

No, Tom will not find out about magic until maybe next chapter or the next two as Eleanor will want to see what Tom himself can figure out and if his power of magic is also as grand as his intelligence.

Alrighty then, see y'all next chapter!


	3. Chapter 2: The Shelves

**_A Mother's Love_**

 **Chapter 2**

 **The Shelves**

* * *

Eleanor knew Tom was magical, yet was curious where he stood on the chain of power. Bloodwise mainly.

Purebloods stood on the highest part of the chain, given their position of power once they were born, and more influential if they came from a prominent family and were a heir.

Halfbloods were next on the spectrum, and few ever really got as high as a pureblood in society but were generally more accepted their children could always become pureblood if they had magical parents and married into a pureblood family.

Mudbloods and Muggles were the same to her. Squibs on the other hand, Eleanor didn't know whether to side with the idea of killing them when they didn't show magic or letting them loose into a world they could fit in.

She had heard of the Blacks, a large family that was considered royalty in Wizarding Britain because of their long ancestry history. It was a wonder that the family managed to have so many children as inbreeding in British purebloods have been at an all time high for a quarter of a century. Of course, Eleanor could name a few of her own relatives in her family who inbred, her mother being inbred as her mother was twin to her father.

It wasn't common in places outside of Western Europe, except maybe Egypt where they still followed the ways of the Pharaohs', who were wizards and witches with large reserves of magic yet very poor control over their magic.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Ghastly muggle firstname and lastname, of course as she had snuck off to Diagon Alley in order to buy the newly released book _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy_ by Levinder Gamp where the man had seemed to pour over decades of work to get every British pureblood families ancestry and make it self updating and told the blood status and whether it was true they were pureblood or not.

Making her way across the library, which for once Tom wasn't making residence on the cream colored chair near the fireplace, she opened the glass doors on one of the shelves that she had locked as she was willing to let the young boy who she had taken in, figure out the clues she left around the mansion.

The copy of _Nature's Nobility_ rested in her hands, heavy with the amount of pages within. Flipping through the book was interesting, and it was easy to find where a pureblood family tried to hush that they had a squib or someone married into a Muggle or Mudblood.

Flipping through the pages were interesting, and when she found the name her son bore as his middle name, she was pleasantly surprised.

 _Ethal Fernara Slytherin (1214-1267) and Artair Ondole Gaunt (1200-1283) married in 1233 continuing the line of Slytherin through the female line._

The Gaunt tree then led down, several marriages to a Danish family which then died out and then around the late 1600's the family became heavily inbred in the main line.

 _Mordria Itol Gaunt (1880-1907) and Marvolo Morthlin Gaunt (1878-1929) married in 1890._

 _Morfin Herrinval Gaunt (1902- )_

 _Merope Mordria Gaunt (1907-1926) and Tom Christopher Riddle (1899- ) married in 1925._

The family line stopped there.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was nowhere to be found, as she flipped the page back and forth with confusion. It was an interesting development as well. She had felt Tom's power before but she had no idea that he descended from Salazar Slytherin himself. A halfblood, but a powerful halfblood like Barnabas Deverill who carved a name for himself in the 1700s with curses and blood.

It was relieving that Tom wasn't in Gamp's book as it had flown off the shelves faster than an owl took off with post.

Eleanor sighed, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear and shelving the book back to its place, closing the glass casing.

"Why can't I open those shelves?"

She jumped, heart leaping as her guard was previously let down with the quiet of the library. "Tom! It is very impolite to sneak up on someone" she calmed her heart by placing her hand over her chest.

Tom watched her with dark eyes, his face certainly fuller since his time at the orphanage. "Why can't I open those shelves?" he asked again with narrow eyes and an inquisitive look.

"You cannot open those shelves because you are not ready to," replied Eleanor evenly.

"I am smart. I can understand more than half of the books in this library." His face showed frustration that was building over the conversation. "You are intelligent Tom, I don't doubt it but what is behind the locked shelves will be unlocked when I notice you are ready."

It was going to be a long night with the cold glare she was given before he stalked to his claimed chair in the library.

* * *

"Mistress is much good, young Master is just cross insides him." Merly stated, hanging a cyan dress that matched her bulbous eyes. "Merly knows this because young Master is very, very happy in the manor. Sad was his eyes when he come to Mistress's home."

Eleanor shifted in bed, a book in her lap as the elderly house-elf fussed about in her room, levitating things to their rightful places, banishing dust, and fixing clothes that were already neatly hanged and ironed for the fifth time in an hour.

"Mistress knows best! Young Master is young and knows little, Mistress is wise!" Merly huffed and continued on in her native German.

Ignoring the rant of the house-elf, she continued reading with a migraine edging its ways on her mind.

Tom was not happy.

Glaring at Eleanor as she left while he curled up on his claimed seat in the large library.

The books behind the glass shelves that expanded on the left side of the library were locked away from his curious hands and greedy eyes that would soak up knowledge like a sponge.

He got up, glancing to the large oak doors where Eleanor left. Tentatively, he took slow, careful steps to the bookcase which his adoptive German mother kept shut.

Tom glanced back to the doors and then focused back onto his main objective. Touching the glass, Tom leaned forward, trying to read the titles on the spines of the books.

They were blurred, as if water had damaged them and it added to Tom's curiosity. It was peculiar.

No matter how close he got to the glass, the words blurred to him. For a moment Tom thought that he had impaired vision, but crossed out the notion as he had only been reading minutes ago.

* * *

It was Samhain tomorrow.

Tom had been in her care for 5 months now and was less blocked-off from her. Eleanor was glad that he had assimilated himself into the manor, and was more comfortable residing inside of it; granted he would still shut himself in his room or the library, but would also attend walks with her around the grounds.

It started off as a way to get him away from the bookshelves she banned him from until he found out about the Wizarding world and become an actual son to her through a Soul Bond, where he would practically be her son through blood and soul. It was outlawed in Britain of course, but not back home in Germany. Hector Fawley, the Minister of Magic for Britain was easily swayed and if she was caught it would be easy to say she was unknowing, being a foreign witch and a pureblood.

Laying under her covers, she thought over this with much detail with different scenarios playing over and over. Eyes heavy, she let them close, ready to succumb to sleep with the thoughts of a new family member who will be her son.

Her magic twinged.

Tom had open the shelves.

* * *

wow look, 2 updates in 1 week!

this is sorta a 4th of July present to you fellow Americans reading "A Mothers Love"

I really appreciate the favs and follows I've been getting! Especially the reviews, I've reread them about a million times, and it helps push me to actually write believe it or not.

anyways, see you all next chapter!

Why did protections Eleanor place earlier break? How did Tom break them?

(Tbh I don't know I'm still brainstorming)


	4. Chapter 3: To Aquire

**_A Mother's Love_**

 ** _Chapter 3_**

 ** _To Acquire_**

* * *

Eleanor blinked slowly as her eyes still felt heavy and her mouth quite dry in the early morning where the sun was trying to peek it's bright rays through small gaps in the clouds. Her eyes met the large, arched ceiling of the library as she blearily blinked.

Her back ached from falling asleep in such a stiff chair, and her neck was so overbearingly annoying to get that certain crick out. Tom was an inquisitive child and was dangerously manipulative and smart with the way he had taken in and handled things.

Thinking over it, she glanced over to where her 'son' was. Sprawled out over a antique sofa with more wood on it than actual cushioning, a pale leg hooked over the edge, and an arm under his head as a makeshift pillow.

She studied the sleeping boy for a few moments. His dark hair contrasted his pale skin as the longer strands had a slight wave that would fall over his eyes when not kept in place. Tom's body was thin, due to the downfall in the muggle economy which led to smaller rations in the orphanage but, with the time he had been spending at the manor he was filling out.

Tom stirred as she analysed him, dark brown eyes blinking once, twice, then focusing. Eleanor smoothed her hair as she sat up on her chair, smoothing out any wrinkle on the nightgown she had rushed into the library in.

"You're a witch." He stated as memories of last night flooded his mind with ' _of course Tom, you're special and they have a word for those who aren't. Muggles_.' He spat the last word in his mind with such venom, as he thought of a weak woman leaving her magical child to an orphanage with the lot of them.

Eleanor nodded as she let him gather his bearings on exactly what happened the night before as he had sneaked a peek into _Darkest Ailments: Casted and Countered._

"I knew I was better than those Muggles. I could make things happen to them." Dark eyes glittered with excitement, his lips turned into a satisfied smirk.

Eleanor narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips. While she had no qualms about the mutual dislike towards Muggles, his magic seemed to be responding to him at such a young age that maybe, it wasn't accidental.

He would be powerful.

"Yes, you are better than Muggles as every other witch or wizard is." She drawled. His eyes snapped to her with a smug expression dancing over his features. "Though, you are not better than a _Mudblood_ , or a _Halfblood_. Certainly not up to par to a _Pureblood_."

She watched the odd changed in her young charge. He listened to her with every word that left her lips when she spoke about the Wizarding World, and she could see the want for power in his posture, the curiosity to know more as he leaned forward.

"Mudbloods, or rather Muggle-born are wizards or witches born to Muggle parents." Eleanor started, a sneer on her pretty features. "They taint our culture, our traditions. They could be as good as any other witch or wizard but they know nothing in advance and try to assimilate us with their own beliefs."

A grandfather clock in a corner of the library chimed.

"Halfbloods are a mix. They have a Muggle or Mudblood parent and a Halfblood or Pureblood parent. They're more tolerable and usable, their bad blood is flushed out when they marry into a Pureblood family but few ever marry one." Tom's eyebrows furrowed as he started to take in the hierarchy. He was displeased that he could be anywhere but the top and internally cursed his weak, Muggle mother.

"Purebloods are those with little to no Muggle blood and have been practicing magic for many centuries. My family is an example, but I am the last one carrying my name." The young woman seemed to give a sad smile with her explanation with being the last in her line.

The rest of the day went smoothly, Tom had locked himself up in the library with the multiple books Eleanor had handed to him of the new world she had briefly explained to him.

He had given her an appreciative look when she handed four large tomes over to him and had called Cusby, a young house elf who was eager to follow orders and even more so to be a personal elf to the 'wonderful, new, young Master.'

* * *

"Is Mistress showing young Master the ceremony?" Merly asked as she poured a cup of tea. Eleanor hummed, leaning back on the chair she occupied for the past hour, watching the Squib gardener Adalbert frustratedly explain in his thick German accent with choppy English to his new apprentice how to cut certain herbs in certain ways so they stay neat.

"There will be no need, Merly. Tom is adjusting to his heritage and I would like to see if he is as capable as I think he is." She accepted the tea cup from the elderly elf and Merly nodded, drooping ears flapping as she did so.

"Merly knows. Young Master is very very strong like Mistress. He makes the tea spill round and round." Merly stated, beginning to sweep the back porch with a conjured broom.

Finishing her tea, she left Merly to her own devices and began to wander through the house with little interest. She greeted several paintings, only two of them being portraits of her ancestors as their main frames were in the ancestral home, or the gallery in the manor.

Thinking back on her conversation with her house elf, she wondered idly about the odd phrase Merly had said when mentioning Tom's magical aura. It wasn't often that the house elves used their own phrases among wizarding folk.

Tom was no doubt a handsome boy as well and doubled with the magical power he seemed to hold could help him gain footing when he comes of age, and is thrust into wizarding society as a legal adult.

She mused over these thoughts as she wandered through Rohstein Manor. The doors to the library were open widely and she could see Tom's figure hunched over a large book with dark red coloring.

Eleanor studied the boy more. It was something she had been doing more and more, grasping the features on his face that could relate to any Pureblood family she knew. Tom looked of fine breeding, and it would be best to keep others thinking he was a Pureblood.

Having an _adopted Halfblood_ as her son and heir would dent her reputation in Wizarding Britain.

A reputation she was trying to reinstate after over several centuries of her family leaving its roots in Britain.

"If you adopt me will I carry your name?" Eleanor's heart jumped, and she quickly turned to meet intelligent dark eyes peering up at her. Calming her beating heart, she sighed. "Tom, please do not sneak up on me like that! A heart attack is what you'll give me if you do that again."

He nodded his head, though mirth was clearly twinkling in his eyes.

"Yes, essentially you will carry my name but you wouldn't be able to inherit anything." Tom frowned at this, eyes darting to her many rings adorning her fingers.

"A Blood Adoption would need to take place. You would have my blood and magic that would link you to my family line" Eleanor explained, and Tom nodded as he intently listened to her explain in accented English.

Tom met her eyes. "What exactly is a Blood Adoption, would anything else happen besides gaining your magic?"

"Essentially it would be like you were born again. I can rename you to whatever I wish, and if you have enough blood in you that is pure it will wash out your Muggle blood. Your features will also change a bit, as only one person is sharing their blood with you, meaning if two parents did you would change to look like their own child."

"Can you adopt me? The magical way?"

She blinked at him, surprised. She had not expected such a quick response to her slight manipulations so the Nostradamus line wouldn't end.

Eleanor nodded slowly, and Tom's smirked victoriously, thinking that he had successfully manipulated the German witch when it was truly the other way around. Of course, Tom wouldn't dare to think that his adopted mother would be able to manipulate him because she was just an overly weak woman who put up a show of being strong because there was no man in the home. No, she wouldn't dare manipulate him because the books she had handed him were proof. It was all of his reasonings that he wasn't played in his own game.

But, not only would he be washed of that _filthy Muggle blood_ his mother had passed to him, but he would be a scion of a Pureblood house.

A grin creeped over his pale face.

* * *

Tom watched Eleanor as she carved oddly shaped symbols into very circular rocks she had ordered the house elves to fetch from the small stream nearby.

His adoptive mother was bent over, carefully placing each rock into a circle that had a odd bird-bath structure in the very center of the circle.

"Tom, please stand in the circle. No, no, _ja_ , in the middle." She quickly ushered him to the center of the circle and hissed at him to be careful of the rocks.

He felt giddy with excitement. He would be witnessing a true magical ritual like the ones he read about in the large book the German witch had given him.

"Give me your hand." Tom complied with her order, flinching away when she brought out a silver knife and slashed through his palm and forced him to squeeze his hand to the blood would freely dribble into the stone bowl structure. She did the same to her own hand, and Tom swore that he could see his magic and her magic touch.

Her magic was a deep purple, and had tentatively merged with his own magic that was a sickly looking dark yellow color.

" _Abonde, may you bring prosperity and fertility to a new family, forged in blood and bound by magic_."

Eleanor leaned over and took a long drink from the bowl and prompted Tom to do the same as she continued her chant.

" _Circe, may you bind our magic with the ones of your own, bringing me as I have beared_."

The runes on the rocks started to softly glow.

" _Cerridwen, please accept my sacrifice of the essence of life and magic I give."_

The bowl forcibly toppled over as the runes flashed white, the blood seeping into the stone floor of the lower levels of Rohstein Manor.

" _Hecate, may you allow the blessing to rise one when another is gone, as two will then be one_."

A strong blast of magic shook the foundations of the house, and Tom felt himself topple over onto the blood-soaked ground.

" _Leonard, may you bless magic as old as the grass. Nicneven, may you bring each Samhain more powerful as the last and bless us to wield our magic and wands as you wielded a wand of power._ "

The magic flared again, the stones hovered and the blood on the floor was moving back into the cut on his hand, as it did the same to Eleanor.

Tom felt his head spin, and let out a cry feeling his body tingle like needles were using his skin as cloth to stitch. White noise buzzed in his ears and his body ached. He wondered if Eleanor had tricked him because no spell could hurt this much, could it?

Tom felt himself slacken and the quick steps of heels on stone had suddenly become fainter and farther away.

His mind had slipped away from reality, and soon he followed after into the endless black abyss.

* * *

Yea it's short. Like all my other chapters. But ANYWAYS here I go into some explanations for those of you who may be confused.

\- Tom believes that Eleanor doesn't have the mind to manipulate him because he thinks that if he openly caught her in trying to manipulate him, he would embarrass her so great that she wouldn't dare try again. This is not the case, as Eleanor had been maniplulating him by telling him "don't open those shelves" in the library because of course a kid would open them if an adult said not to. She just didn't expect for the shelves to actually open.

\- I used the cliche Blood Adoption idea but i added my own twist, as I added in deities that are associated in magic in some way.

\- Tom still doesn't know that his mother is actually the witch and his father was the muggle, as he believes only a powerful man would be the magical one because witches should be able to stay alive with magic and wouldn't drop him off in a orphanage full of Muggles unless he was one of them. Tom refuses to believe that he is a Muggle-born as he doesn't see himself anything less than a Halfblood.

ok so, my updates for this story will be slow and sporadic as I'm still testing the waters and I'm used to writing one-shots and the like so please be patient! Make sure to drop a Review because I love reading them, I truly do. I just don't know what to say back but, thank you for the reviews any ways!

Love you all,

zyxms


	5. Chapter 4: New

**_A Mother's Love_**

 **Chapter** **4**

 **New**

* * *

Eleanor sat at Tom's bedside for the next couple days, a book in her lap and a house elf on hand for anything she may feel the boy would need in his unconscious state.

His features were slowly changing, not drastically but she noticed how his nose lost its slight curve on the bridge and gained a straighter one. Tom's baby fat still held on to his cheeks but if you looked close enough you could see that his cheekbones had also risen a bit more. On days where she couldn't find anything to read she would study her son.

It was new to her. After the ritual she felt an overwhelming amount of maternal affection and had rushed to Tom as soon as he hit the floor and their shared blood and magic had returned to their bodies. Of course, she studied extensively on Blood Adoption rituals, remembering an ancestor named Albeniet Nostradamus who kept the main French line of the family continuing after his wife died shortly after their marriage was consummated, or something the like.

She sighed, closing the book she was reading and set it to the side, beginning to study the boy once again.

Tom certainly gained a few inches on him and his body no longer looked too thin to be considered healthy. His complexion had lightened a bit and she coul

* * *

d see the green of his veins on the back of his hands.

The witch gently traced the veins in his hands, and flipped his palm over to trace the lines of his palms. His hands were calloused, she noted, feeling the hard bumps before trailing her fingers up each one of his own.

Tom's hand twitched and Eleanor paused her actions for a moment, blue eyes quickly flickering over to his sleeping face.

Dark brows frowned and his lips pursed as he released a small groan and rubbed his eyes with his hand.

"Must've been dreaming," Tom muttered sleepily, yawning afterwards. The corners of Eleanor's lips turned up amusedly. "It wasn't a dream Tom."

Eleanor watched as he quickly snapped his head to look at her, swearing that if he went any faster than his neck would've snapped.

Instead of the usual dark brown she would meet when eye-to-eye with the boy, she surprisingly met a pair of very dark _blue_ eyes.

"You've been sleeping for about a week." She supplied, and met the widening of his dark blue eyes while an expression of shock was painted over his face.

"A _week_?!" The young boy exclaimed loudly while a some antique clock chimed somewhere down the hall.

"Yes," His new mother slowly nodded, "The ritual was stronger than I meant for it to be."

Tom gave her a sarcastic look as if to say ' _well, it should be stronger than you intended if I was in bed for a week.'_

Getting up from her seat, she conjured a small mirror for Tom and handed it to him so he could see his changed features. He immediately ran a hand over his face when he took sight of himself, turning his head every angle he could.

"I look like you now." He said, sounding like he was convincing himself of the changes.

Eleanor slowly nodded, "Yes, you are my son now as well."

Tom turned his head to look at her, his new dark blue eyes regarding her for a moment before he smoothed a hand over his cheek.

"Does this mean I don't have Muggle blood in me anymore?" Tom asked.

"You're a Pureblood now, if that's what you're asking." The blonde replied, calling a house elf to the room for lunch to be brought to the room.

A tray of sandwiches popped in on the side table of Tom's bed. Eleanor offered one to him which he eyed suspiciously for a moment but accepted when she took a bite of her own sandwich.

They ate in silence, the crunch of lettuce when they took a bite being the only sound heard in the bedroom.

Of course it wasn't quiet for long, as Tom's natural need for answers to the numerous questions in his head took over. "Does this mean I have to call you 'Mother' now?"

She stilled her actions of pouring herself a cup of tea and seemed to contemplate her answer. "It would be most appropriate, so yes."

Tom nodded with this and accepted the cup of tea she offered, taking a small sip and having the want to ask more questions.

"You should sleep Tom, further rest will be better. You can ask me anything you want to know in the morning."

The young boy made a sound of agreement, though protest was in his movements. Probably because he had just woken up.

"Sleep well, Tom." Eleanor murmured, and quietly left the room.

* * *

"I think it would be best if I get you a tutor."

Tom looked up from his spot across Rohstein Manor's main parlour, a puzzled expression on his changed features.

"Why? I don't need one." Tom said, his dark brows furrowed as Eleanor took a sip of her tea, a frown on her lips.

Truthfully, she expected the question as Tom was smart and to no doubt of hers could actually read the whole library and be just as equally educated just like he had gotten a tutor.

"Yes but since you are now a Pureblood I expect you to know wizarding etiquette and proper conduct." The young wizard seemed thoughtful for a moment then complied to her proposal of a tutor.

It took a few weeks to find a proper tutor for Tom. The first tutor, a young woman named Sarah Ackerly had quit within three days after the second time Tom had lashed out with his magic and caused her to take a tumble down the Entry Hall stairs.

Frederick Eachessor, a Halfblood was the most suitable tutor so far and had lasted five days; a record so far.

Sitting in the Licht parlour, she stared out of the large window that took up a good portion of one of the walls, Tom currently outside with Tutor Frederick.

She could see the tall, thin build of Frederick as he corrected Tom's wand wielding stance, of course a training wand in his grasp that could only shoot out sparks and color changing charms.

Tom, ever so ready to learn had quickly corrected his stance the way Frederick had shown him. Eleanor watched as they shot color changing charms back and forth, Frederick's dark robes becoming a bright teal and Tom's hair becoming a pink hue.

It was fascinating to watch, Frederick egging his student on to try better, and her son's frustrated face as he failed to dodge the charm, his skin now a bright orange.

"Merly!" She called, and the elderly house-elf popped into the room, bowing respectfully before taking the half eaten plate of lunch and popping out of the parlour.

She continued to watch Tom shoot a plethora of colors from his training wand and messing up his aim twice. For a fleeting moment she wished that she would've offered up teaching him herself. She wouldn't have to worry about frightened and heavily injured tutors leaving Rohstein Manor as if it was the origin of Dark Magic itself.

She had thought to teach Tom the more illegal magic but went against it. As intelligent and powerful he was for his age, the magic would affect his growing magical core and stunt the growth. It was something that happened to her mother, such overwhelming magic ruining her core before it had developed to a more stabilized state, and leaving her unable to cast more than a simple charm.

 _Pathetic_.

It was one word to describe the pretty blonde witch Eleanor took after in features. Hallia Nostradamus, a social viper who hid her almost-squib status by grand balls and blackmail against those she saw as threats. Her mother always hid, whether it be behind the money she flaunted, or her firstborn daughter's excelling magical ability.

 _'Of course Eleanor is the top of her classes. I taught her everything that I've known!'_

 _'Eleanor simply is just my little prodigy, first bit of accidental magic was performed on her second year.'_

Hallia's lies were always crafted well, and it led onto her daughter who then started lying when the family vase was smashed beyond the help of a Reparo. The Squib servant that was framed was never to be seen again, and a hefty sum of galleons was given to his Mudblood family so they wouldn't get curious. It was the first time she remembered seeing her mother give her a proud look, in her own twisted way after finding out Eleanor actually smashed the vase.

"Miss Nostradamus." Her hand flew to her wand that laid next to her on the cherrywood table, but her head snapped to the voice. Frederick Eachessor stood at the doorway of the parlour, Tom already sitting across from her, hands twirling his practice wand. A habit he had recently developed.

"Miss Nostradamus, your son has shown remarkable progress in these past few days. His magical core is in positive development, and I recommend that you should teach him some simple charms so it could build up more of his reserves." Eachessor's thin lips were pulled up in a satisfied smile.

"I cannot teach him the basic practicals of magic, sadly my code is not compatible with his in guiding it. As you are his Mother, it would be easier for you to teach him magic before his schooling, that is not Coloring Charms or sparks. His intelligence would be wasted if he did not."

Eleanor glanced at Tom, he was giving her a curious look. Searching her face with hope that she would teach him herself.

"I see. Well, if his magical reserves are anything like his late father's than he will be a great wizard indeed." She spoke, referring to her late husband, rather than Tom's true father, a Muggle. It would be better for her late husband to be seen as Tom's father of course. An illegitimate son and heir would do more trouble than good, no matter his magical capability or intelligence.

Besides, it wasn't as if her dead husband was around to say that Tom wasn't his son.

Frederick and Eleanor conversed a few minutes more about Tom's magical prowess before the tutor excused himself, and left the Manor by Floo.

"You will teach me, right?" Tom asked, his eyes caught onto her face in narrowed questioning. His own question seemed more of an underlying threat, his lips drawn into a hard line and his dark blue eyes guarded.

Eleanor gave him a condescending smile, receiving a glare from her son.

"Why, of course! Mother and son bonding time." Tom's glare lessened, and his posture flashed with shock for a moment before hardening again.

"Thank you." He said tightly, turning on his heel and leaving the parlour to Eleanor.

* * *

"What are you, a Squib?" Eleanor hissed, yanking the training wand out of Tom's hand.

"You can't even get the motions right, and here I was thinking you were smart for your age." She showed him the correct wand movement for the eighth time, ignoring her heir's nasty scowl.

He all but snatched the wand from her hand when she handed it back to him, his expression tight as he tried to cast Wingardium Leviosa on a purple handkerchief. The handkerchief trembled and rose a few centimetres off the conjured table before falling back down.

"This is easier than coloring charms!" Eleanor cried, receiving another glare. Tom threw the wand to the floor after another attempt that failed, and flicked his wrist causing the handkerchief to zoom up to the ceiling and float.

Eleanor stared up at the floating handkerchief with shock.

"I think wandless magic isn't something you need to learn." Eleanor said, her voice soft.

Tom scoffed, and picked up the wand, filing it away for later to ask about wandless magic.

He flicked the wand and let the handkerchief drop before flawlessly casting Wingardium Leviosa, no problems with his wand movement or pronounciation for the first time in an hour.

* * *

I've been writing a bit here and there for this chapter. Been busy handling some stuff . Life has been busy!

Anyways I hope you all will check out _Of Shrewdness and Wit._ It's going to be short I hope, maybe 14 chapters at max I'm planning. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I love reading your reviews and thoughts, no matter what they are!

 _ **Love, zyxms**_


	6. Chapter 5: Hired Beings

_**A Mother's Love**_

 _ **Chapter 5**_

 _ **Hired Beings**_

* * *

The next few months was seen as Eleanor pushing Tom to learn how to cast a spell before teaching him the theory behind it. Backwards teaching to what most magical schools taught but, there was always a sense of sudden understanding of the theory once the ability to cast it was covered. And apparently, Tom had the same sense of learning (even if it took _forever_ to accomplish). His eyes would light up, and a small 'o' of his lips would show the picture of realization.

"The ability of levitation is just a small charm that is not commonly used unless lifting things out of the way. Magic has to be commanded to proceed with following power, if there is no command magic can be either a lazy fog or wild whirlwind around the witch or wizard." Eleanor instructed.

The afternoon carried on like this, and the western ballroom of Rohstein manor seemed warm when she had rested her hand on Tom's shoulder, her left hand guiding Tom's wand hand for the wand movements.

"Why does magic exist?" Tom questioned one morning as two house-elves popped in to take the dishes.

"It isn't really known. We assume magic came to us naturally or it was a gift from a creature or another." Tom's lips set into a hard line.

"What about house-elves then? Why is their magic different?" He asked, gesturing to the Apparating elf as they bowed in and out of returning and leaving the dining room.

"Because it developed differently, Tom. Now go wash up, Eachessor will be here soon. I have business to attend to with the Ministry." She waved him off before he could ask more questions, always inquisitive to more knowledge. Clearly he wanted to ask more, dark blue eyes flickering over to the last elf in the room. Instead, he nodded and quickly left.

* * *

"Wand please, ma'am." The young security guard held his hand out lazily, the Daily Prophet clearly spread over his station with the title flashing between ' _Wizarding School Potions Champion Invents a New Sticky Solution!_ ' and ' _Kenmare Kestrels Crushing Defeat with Banchory Badgers_ '

"I have no reason to give a Mudblood my wand." Eleanor sneers, watching the security guard frown but nod stiffly, waving her in.

Truly, it was too easy to bypass the British Ministry. All she had to do was act confident and treat everyone of lower blood and things came her way easily.

Her heels clicked on the tiled floors, Ministry workers hustling about as owls flew overhead from department to department, orders and files clutched in their talons and the occasional feather floating down from their fuzzy chests or outstretched wings.

Climbing into the elevator, she requested Level 2 to the bored-looking elevator operator.

" _Level 2, Ministerial Wizarding Register Department_." The Operator informed as Eleanor strolled out of the elevator and down a hall that led off to a large rectangular room. Desks were pulled up on the edges where workers spoke with their clients. Owls swooped overhead as they dropped large envelopes onto desks or sent something out to another Department.

"I'd like to register as a British Wizarding Citizen." She said, primly seating herself on the chair pulled up across the desk from a plain-looking woman.

"Do you have your identification?" The woman asked, voice dull but nasal at the same time. She pulled an envelope from the small, magically expanding purse and slid them over the desk, hands careful to not touch the woman noticed and gave a slight frown, but as she flipped open the envelope and sorted through the papers she seemed mollified.

"Miss Eleanor Louisa Nostradamus?" The woman asked, seeming rhetorical.

"Blood-Status is Pureblood, and you are the recently widowed wife of one Mister Claus Ludwig Langenburg?" She shuffled through more papers, quickly reading through the documents.

"You have a son, young Mister Thomas Hager Nostradamus-Langenburg?" The plain woman asked, missing how the blonde client across from her smirked and drawled a "Yes."

"Well, Miss Nostradamus, I will need you to fill out this paperwork and to sign on a few forms. Your original identification can go to your Gringotts Vault or with the Ministry archive if you so choose. Your son's paperwork will be given to you after you fill out your own." The woman handed over a quill and small stack of papers that Eleanor could estimate was about twenty pages.

The next few minutes passed with Eleanor filling in blank lines and trying to remember the names of all the family properties in the United Kingdom that was abandoned to house-elves to take care of.

Flipping to the last page, she scanned over it and took in that it was just over her career. It went over general education and if she would like to receive the British exams that schoolchildren took, such as OWLs and NEWTs. Hesitating, she put the check 'yes' and filled in a request for the testing to be taken at her home.

"I have finished." Eleanor declared, casting a spell to let the ink instantly dry and slide over the stack of papers. The woman nodded and quickly gave Eleanor the paperwork for her young charge.

 _ **Name:**_ _Thomas Hager Nostradamus_

She filled in the rest of the empty spaces, circling 'Pureblood' with a heavy hand on the quill before continuing on again.

It was interesting, and entertaining to Eleanor as she practically lied her way through Tom's identification documents. By the time she was finished, the German witch was satisfied with the results. Granted, a few things were kept the same, such as Tom's birthday; December 31, 1926.

All in all, Tom Riddle and Thomas Nostradamus seemed like two very different people when she admired her work. Thomas Nostradamus was a German Pureblood wizard born in Cochem, Germany. He was raised being sheltered because of a ailment that continued until his fifth birthday and recently moved with his grieving, widowed mother to England.

"Miss, your son seems to be missing the paternal last name, do you wish to change it to your own?" The nasal voice asked and Eleanor sneered, "Of course." Eleanor drawled, looking down from her nose as the woman nodded. "Have a good day, Miss Nostradamus."

"You renamed me?" Tom said incredulously as he tried to unlock a conjured trunk with Alohamora.

Eleanor sniffed, "Of course I renamed you. I had to give you a name fitting for a Pureblood." Tom flicked his training wand as the trunk went ' _click_ ', unlocking.

"But Thomas Hager? I understand your last name replacing mine, but—" His adoptive mother summoned his wand to her hand and gave him a stern look.

"Tom is a Muggle name. I renamed you Thomas so there is an excuse to call you by that nickname. Hager is an acceptable German name. Now, you will accept this change without further complaint, have I made myself clear?" Tom's dark blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "Yes, _mother_."

"Good. Now, I want you to read up on some theory for the rest of the afternoon. Afterwards you can come talk to me if you have any questions." She said, tucking his training wand into the folds of her robes.

"Cusby!"

The house-elf popped in, large eyes looking up towards her.

"Take Tom to the library and attend to him if he needs something." They both popped out of the room and Eleanor conjured a simple wooden chair, suddenly tired.

Tom's hold on magic seemed to be something very easy and tangible to her heir. His magical aura was still a muddy green and yellow, still following his emotions in jealousy, attention-needing, and possessiveness. There was a thin rim of light gray surrounding the two colors and it had shown his sway over what kind of magic he used. She would, of course, have to show Tom how to hide his aura. It was easy to check upon someone's magic and emotions with an advanced charm. All wizards and witches learned how to conceal their aura unless of course they were Muggleborn or Squibs.

Thinking of Squibs, Eleanor wondered if she should hire a few for Rohstein Manor. Binding a family under a Unbreakable Vow would prove most useful because human servants could do some tasks house-elves could not. With that thought she summoned some parchment and a quill to write a letter requesting to the Daily Prophet of a job opening. Maybe she should request a few creatures to work under her. Merlin knew that the last Being that worked under her family was a Vampire who had the unlucky demise of being used as a shield against the Killing Curse in a rather aggressive family gathering.

Deciding she would allow it, she scribbled down the exception for Hags, Vampires, and Werewolves who would like to work under her and that details would be worked out under a face-to-face interview in Rohstein Manor.

"Merly!" Eleanor called.

"Mistress has called Merly, what can Merly assist Mistress with?" The elderly house-elf asked, bony fingers interlocked as she bowed low on the ground.

"I want you to deliver this letter to whomever is the Editor of the Daily Prophet, the British Wizarding newspaper, tell him that it must be in the newspaper with the jobs. Do not take no as an answer. Now, go." Eleanor waved the house-elf off as the creature took the letter and quickly left to do her duties.

* * *

The following week was interesting to say the least.

Tom had requested to learn the basics of potion making that left Eleanor with some excitement as she belatedly shown him her lab under the Manor, unsurprisingly close to where she Blood Adopted her charge. Tom obviously had a knack for potions, but had trouble not following the directions in the book but following the verbal instructions the blonde witch gave him. He would argue with her about the stirring and extra ingredients she added to make the potion better until she left him alone to do it the books' way and came back with a neon green mixture sitting in the cauldron, bubbling intensely when it was supposed to be a soft blue that did not eat away at a silver spoon.

The interviews with Squibs and the Halfbreeds turned out to be quite entertaining. Many were very obviously in poverty, scrounging around for scraps of clothing, money, and food.

They were part of the lowest rung of Wizarding society and a job offer under a rich Pureblood seemed like heaven with the failing economy. Already she had hired four Squibs.

Only one had a family, but the wife was a Squib like him and their two children were young Wizards that Eleanor was curious to meet. The Squib, Jonathan Tollen, had practically burst into tears when she told him he was hired.

Only two Vampires had shown themselves, and Eleanor hired them on the spot, promising a replenishing amount of blood from Muggles. The female vampire meekly requesting her new employer if the blood could come from the scum of Muggle society. Eleanor agreed, it was obvious she was a new vampire and still had a intact moral compass in a way, but the male vampire had stonily agreed and eyed Eleanor cautiously.

There was quite an amount of Werewolves that had come and she was a bit surprised. She suspected that Britain didn't have a big Werewolf population as opposed to Eastern Europe, especially Romania where halfbreeds thrived in the forests and had many villages for creatures like them.

The first werewolf was a young teen. He wore a big patchy jacket that was far past being threadbare. His hair was long and very uneven, and he gazed up at Eleanor with a very hopeful expression. He was lanky, probably around the age of the beginning stages of puberty. Eleanor thought about sending him away, he was too young and weak. But, if she let him paint her as his savior if she took him in, he would be undoubtedly loyal to her. In the end she accepted and watched as gratitude and ah, loyalty flooded his features. The young teen sent her a bright smile and promised to never let her down.

In the end, she hired a total of twelve servants. Four Squibs and Werewolves, two Vampires. They all had taken the Unbreakable Vows.

Eilif, a blonde vampire offered to be the binder for most of the group. She used to be a witch and very reluctantly, Eleanor gave her own wand for the binding process.

"Do you, promise to protect my family, those I consider family, to the ends of the Earth and to death?" Eleanor asked, hand clasped with Jonathan, the Squib.

"Yes."

"Do you, swear to keep secrets of this family and to not betray me in anyway?"

"Yes."

"Will you, do your utmost duty to preserve my line, my son, and my descendants?"

"Yes."

"Will you see my life above those you cherish, above the wellbeing of your own and your family's own?"The Squib hesitated for a moment, but he nodded.

"Yes."

"Will you follow every order I tell you, no matter how disgusting, gruesome or foolish?"

"Yes."

The golden light faded and the process repeated eleven more times. She faced a small dilemma when there was no binder for her and Eilif, but another Vampire and multiple Werewolves offered their service to they were finished, Eleanor thought about the staff that should work around the household before dismissing them to a wing of the Manor to take up temporary residence.

She had a plan to build a small village for her new residence workers. The Squibs and handful of Werewolves would build it during the daylight hours, and the Vampires could work on it during the night. Eleanor was laying foundation to heavy loyalty, and shrewdly, young Tom was observing it, he decided he would need people to be loyal to him so they would get hurt rather than himself.

Laying the foundation of each house. Eleanor worked with them, using her magic to quickly dry the mortar so they could begin on the floors and outer walls. The group of servants were bonding well, and Jonathan had even brought his young son to help with the construction. Majority of the Werewolves were spreading the mortar and fitting each rock together perfectly so no holes would show through and create insulation problems. The Vampires seemed to be enjoying themselves, running around with their super speed around the property and finding stones to use in the cobblestone walls. Eleanor gave a twirl of her wand, and fitted in a window into the cobblestone wall, as they started on another house. She had taken the duty of laying down floors and making the inside walls a smooth face instead of rocks jutting out. Eleanor had no idea what to decorate the inside of the homes as, so decided to give them some galleons to decorate as they saw fit, but to budget.

The tired, but pleased smiles gave a satisfaction to her, as some servants picked some of the finished houses as theirs and some went into their temporary lodgings in the manor.

* * *

 **Sorry,**

I honestly pulled this chapter out of no where and I'm not satisfied with it.

The plot of this chapter should count as a filler? It's important to some parts in the future but honestly I'm just putting this chapter here so when I pull character out of the blue you guys won't be all confused.

Bad grammar, and nonsense sentences as usual but I'll try to get back to it in the future okay?

 **Till next chapter** ,

zyxms


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